


Café 'Hama

by takoyaki (tamagoyaki)



Category: Tokyo Ghoul, ヒプノシスマイク | Hypnosis Mic (Albums)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Tokyo Ghoul, M/M, Samatoki is human, and he's fucking oblivious as hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 15:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16519013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamagoyaki/pseuds/takoyaki
Summary: "You're such an idiot, Samatoki!" Ramuda laughs in his face. "How do you run a ghoul café without realizing it?"





	Café 'Hama

**Author's Note:**

> \- Ghouls: basically vampires without weakness to the sun + tentacles usually hidden away. They can't consume anything but coffee and human flesh.
> 
> \- Denpa (電波), also denpa-kei (電波系) or denpa-san (電波さん), is a Japanese term for individuals who are disconnected or dissociated from the people around them. See Tanaka Gundham for more.

Like the fucking supportive friend he is, Amemura’s first response is to laugh.

Samatoki laughs along with him.

And then, he smacks him over the head for laughing.

-

“Owwie~! What was that for, you big meanie?” Amemura sulks at him.

“For laughing at my dream, you fake bastard. What other bloody reason could there be?” Samatoki grouches as he hands the other half of the popsicle to him. The taller college student pauses in thought. (Totally not to take revenge on Amemura, who’s straining against his arm muscles to pull out the popsicle; who he heard through the grapevine was having hot passionate sex _on his bed_ when he was out.) “On a second thought, you could say I just wanted to see your stupid face scrunched up all weird.”

“If you just wanted to have one round with me, you could just say the word, you know?” Amemura’s whole body takes on a more sensual stance. “Sa-ma-to- _ki_.”

He smacks the idiot over the head again. Amemura screams and threatens to report him to his onee-san for roommate abuse. Samatoki scoffs in his face and dares him to.

Needless to say, Amemura remains under the impression that his whole phase about wanting to start a café in the outskirts of town is just that – a phase.

Samatoki plugs his ears in and grumbles for Jyuto to “shut the fucking idiot up” when Amemura comes over to scream at him for dropping out of college without a warning. (“Oh! And how could you not give some free tickets to me, Samatoki~?!” He begs with his face, a whine in his tone. “I could use it to please so many more onee-san-!” “This one’s a slut. Remember that well.” Samatoki tells employee number one, Busujima Mason Rio.)

Ramuda becomes ‘Hama’s first regular (a.k.a, the short form for an unwanted nuisance).

-

Employee number one, Busujima Mason Rio, position: Chef, is a fucking denpa he discovered eating some fine meat in his parents’ old, abandoned restaurant (very soon to be remade) one day.

The storm makes the scene scarily intimidating then, the not-chef stuck with a piece of patty wrapped in a paper napkin that’d just been brought to his mouth. Thunder flashes, reminding Samatoki of why the hell he’s in a restaurant he wouldn’t step back into (couldn’t); a place he can’t even bear to live in. And Samatoki scowls and reaches for the first thing within arm’s distance to use as a weapon.

The chair very damn well breaks in half upon impact with the fucking hulk.

The hulk, on the other hand, stands without a single scar to show the chair’s honorable sacrifice.

“Why the fuck are you in my parents’ restaurant?!” Samatoki growls.

“This sergeant was told to use this shelter as a rest stop.” The man replies, to which Samatoki stares incredulously.

“Who the fucking hell gave you permission?” He demands, because all his family is dead.

The large fucking hulk lowers himself a bit – screw him for being so mighty big – and he peers at Samatoki dead in the eyes and says:

“A girl in white directed this sergeant here.”

Samatoki goes paper white himself. No, he doesn’t believe in ghosts. But dang, this guy must be mighty fucked up in the mind to be blurting stuff like that. What is all that shit with the sergeant thing? And now that he thinks of it, it might make sense for his sister’s unfortunately departed soul to guide someone in need to his parents’ restaurant—

Samatoki takes the denpa in. Only because the denpa looks so fucking lost then. It’s definitely not because he’s trying to continue something his sister may or may not have done.

-

Samatoki ends up domesticated by Rio’s cooking each time he returns home from college.

As he lugs his bags out of the truck and peers at the doors he’s walking through permanently this time, Samatoki can’t help but resign himself to living a life as cattle, meant only to be fattened and plumped up by Rio’s fucking delicious cooking. Well, at least, he’d thought, it wouldn’t be such a bad way to go.

He may or may not have screeched bloody murder at the first rat he found disembodied on his cooking board.

-

Over the course of the first few weeks, several bastards show up demanding protection fees for guarding their café.

Samatoki crunches on watermelon slices as he watches his guard dog (Rio) take them all out without a single bat of his eye. Then, he makes sure to properly traumatize them by stuffing them full of watermelon skin, grinding the pieces of food into their faces with his feet. The fucking weaklings are crying uncle as they scramble off with their tails between their legs.

“You,” Rio says, taking a slice of watermelon when he offers the plate. “Are surprisingly well-versed in the techniques of torture, Samatoki.” He takes a contemplative look at the fruit.

“What? At least call it kindness. I’m feeding them out of the goodness of my heart.” Samatoki snorts.

“This sergeant shall take note.”

The watermelon crunches as it slides down the denpa’s throat.

-

Samatoki remains convinced employee number two was fucking high on something when he trot up to them, glasses fixed on them even through the pile of humping bodies all freaking drunk off their asses.

Maybe it was alcohol. Maybe it was nicotine. Samatoki doesn’t fucking know, okay? But standing against the bar with the stupid denpa beside him who had repelled virtually every member of the female population with his quips of “this sergeant must remain celibate”, “discipline is an important thing to upkeep” even when they are offering their fucking asses to him. Well. Samatoki thinks he has a fucking good idea of what Glasses might have been drunk off when he storms up to them.

“I hear that you are starting a new organization. Something that’d be grand in the long run.” Glasses hitches his glasses higher up on his nose.

Samatoki was just about to clear his misunderstanding for him, but Denpa interrupts.

“Yes. That is what we are planning to do.”

Samatoki inhales sharply. Looks to Denpa, wondering what the fuck he’s doing because they certainly aren’t starting an _organization_. (Who knows what that translates to in his denpa world though?)

“Splendid.” Glasses’ glasses flashes. It might have been the disco ball. “Every organization requires a tactician. I want in.”

Samatoki’s not about to miss out on his first real opportunity to secure himself a manager-cum-floor staff when he knows shit about financial matters.

“Are you sure you’re up for it? It’s a pretty tough job.” He baits Glasses Boy with a smirk.

Glasses inhales and looks at him with an odd glint in his eyes for a moment. Understanding seems to dawn upon him though. For a moment, Samatoki’s almost terrified that they’d be back to having a warehouse of flour and a single 100g packet of sugar.

But Glasses smirks.

“That’s exactly what I want.”

Samatoki's relieved he's such a dumbass.

-

He gets Glasses boy – employee number two, Iruma Jyuto, position: Resource Manager – to sign the contract, before he shoves the inventory list in his face.

“What is this?” Jyuto keeps an impassive face as he looks at the sheet, even if he very clearly wants to ask it in a more crude, blunt manner.

“Your fucking job.” Samatoki tells him. Jyuto peers back with a blank face. Samatoki groans. “Please tell me you know how to fill in an inventory. I’d go to hell before I’ve got to clear out a warehouse worth of flour to the local markets again.”

Some understanding seems to dawn upon Jyuto. Again, of what, Samatoki doesn’t know shit.

“Of course, that is an easy task for someone of my calibre.” His smile seems slightly strained, however, as he picks up the sheet. A smirk comes to his face. “With that said, it figures that you’d hardly know crap about things such as managing your own finances—”

Samatoki does not get along well with Employee Number Two.

-

The opening of the café requires a great deal of mess. (“Don’t fucking put that in, Rio!” “You must be a dumbass, to not have worked with a mop in your life.” “I woke up with a chicken leg in my mouth.” Samatoki shoots the guy a sympathetic look. It must have been rich kid’s first experience with raw chicken. “Yeah. Rio likes to leave gifts for the bastards he likes.” “That felt more like a ‘fuck off’, in my experience.” “This sergeant hopes you liked his gift.”) There’s nary a customer in sight, given the generally abandoned state of the shopping district and the fact that his parents’ restaurant’s prestige has long since died out. Jyuto picks up his phone though, and the next thing Samatoki knows, they’ve got plenty of customers lining up at their doors.

“I bet you get tricked into those connections the same way you walked blindly in to our store.” Samatoki cusses him out as he serves another cappuccino.

“Tsk. Your jealousy’s showing, Samatoki.” Jyuto tuts.

He takes a hesitant look at Rio though, as if seeking for approval.

“Urgh. Go get a fucking room with him already.” Samatoki scoffs under his breath, counting the change.

“What are you saying?” Jyuto looks absolutely astounded. He hisses. “That guy would kill me.”

“Oh, can’t handle it rough, can you?” Samatoki leers.

Jyuto gazes at him like he’s absolutely out of his mind. Which, in his opinion, is pretty damn satisfying after weeks of coffee-making training under the _kind_ tutelage of the bastard himself. The bastard is quick to sink his face into a palm, rubbing the silent frustration off of it roughly.

“Just think about it, Samatoki.” Jyuto states in a hushed whisper, eyes completely serious. “Do you _want_ me to get together with Rio?”

It takes a moment for things to click, and when it does, all memories of Amemura fucking Ramuda who literally fucked on every surface of their college room comes to mind.

Samatoki’s throat goes dry with dread.

“Think Rio. Who leaves dead carcasses beside our beds as gifts.” Jyuto says conspiratorially. “And think big.”

“Oh.” He breathes, horrified.

“I’ll leave you at that.” Jyuto brushes past him to serve their next customer.

-

Screaming fit aside, Amemura laughs at him the day they’re reunited.

He laughs and laughs and collapses to the ground, beating the floor with his fists. And even then, after he takes a breath, Amemura still continues to laugh.

“Hey.” Samatoki kicks him, because they’re just the type of friends who’d fuck all over each other’s beds and dish out physical abuses. “Calm the fuck down, Idiot. What the heck’s so funny?”

Amemura gasps out between peals of laughter.

“You…! You’re a literal joke in the making, Samatoki!”

Samatoki attacks him with more kicks.

When he looks up, for some reason, he gains more looks of admiration than fear from the onlooking customers.

They’re all fucking twisted. He just knows it.

**Author's Note:**

> Every character above is a ghoul other than Samatoki.
> 
> Do kudos/bookmark/subscribe/comment to indicate your interest! It'd be a huge motivator in this trying examination period.


End file.
